From Bad to Worse
by Rue Bladesinger
Summary: This undead world is finally being cured. Our worst fears are becoming good. Everything is almost back to normal. Almost. R and Julie are beginning a new life, but what happens when R dies again? I guess this world wasn't meant for change, and there are some that agree... Rated T for language, just to be safe. -
1. Conversion

**Hey everyone! I as thinking about this idea for the last two days, and just had to put it on paper. I already tried writing two other stories, but i completely and utterly failed. I couldn't keep a persistent idea in my head, my grammar sucked, there was no description...it was just horrible. But I am pretty sure that this is my favorite idea and I can update pretty often. I posted this nearly an hour ago, and I already have favorites, follows and reviews, so thank you all so much! But the main reason I am adding this author note later than I even posted this chapter is to say sorry about the annoying spacing. Sorry it's not double spacing, it really makes me want to claw my face off too, but because I don't have a computer I have to write everything on this pad app on my kindle, which sadly makes the spacing wrong when I copy and paste. So I am REALLY sorry about it. But anyways, here is my fanfic**-

I burst into the crumbling, rusted doors of our three room apartment building, not minding that I leave the door open when I pass through, and rush into the bathroom that Julie and I share. I stumble mindlessly into tables and chairs with chipping paint and nearly fall over onto the floor. I try to ignore the bloody gore that is running down my arm, my chest, and smeared all over my neck. I ignore the intense pain that emanates from every one of my senses that are slowly becoming numb and dull. As I feel half of my body already becoming limp, I begin to panic. I need to get to the antivirus shot that I know is in the cabinet just above the sink, but I am afraid I won't reach it in time. I grunt as I trip, and look down to see my left foot is all ready failing me. How did I let this happen? I quickly push away this now petty thought for the task at hand.  
Don't die.  
I make it into the bathroom with clumsy movements and begin to feel myself losing my balance again, so I shift my weight at the last second to fall onto the sink, barely standing. I can faintly hear the sound of whispering in the back of my head, but along with everything else right now, I ignore it. I quickly open the cabinet, nearly swinging the whole door off of its rotting edges and begin rummaging through countless bottles of pills and different kinds of toiletries until I find it. A large glowing syringe the color of golden yellow. I let out a sigh of relief and grab it just as my entire left leg gives in, and I fall backwards. But I don't feel it. I only focus the few drops of last bit of concentration onto the life I hold in my hands.  
Once I am able to get a sure grip on the thing, I clench my teeth and plunge the needle into my arm, but through my hazy coherence I accidentally put it twice as far in as I originally intended. I let the liquid gold flow into my veins and battle the darkness that threatens to control my body once again. But I refuse to let my all ready graying skin be overcome. I can't let this happen again. But I fear I all ready have.  
When I am positive that the solution has been emptied into my -what seems to be- lifeless body, I pull the glass syringe from my skin and throw it across the room, where it hits the wall and shatters. I fall back and lie onto the tile flooring, my red blood pooling around me from the wound that is bleeding nonstop that is just above my collarbone. I think that if the disease doesn't take me, my mass blood loss will. But I don't dwell on this long.  
I am still vaguely aware of the whispers in my head, bouncing around within my skull and nearly vibrating my whole frame, but when I look up to see the hazy image of Julie, crying and mouthing words I can't understand, I see that the voices I hear are not whispers, but the strangled shouts and pleas from Julie, who is now kneeling next to me, grabbing my hand anxiously.  
Losing my energy at rapid rates, I can't lift my head more then an inch, and even then it makes me dizzy. So j am forced to just watch from my now failing eyes as my blood around me slowly turns from red, to purple, and then black, and Julie still yells at me, but what she is saying is beyond me. I know that I took too long trying to get the antivirus into my veins, and I know that I am going to die again.  
Again. A second chance. Although this new second chance I would like to skip. Not only is it foul and repulsive, but I find it like being in a cage. It's torturous and repugnant, and I do not wish to experience it again.  
But it is too late for choices. I can't really see much right now, but I am still able to understand she is in pain. And I hate that. I want to gather her in my arms and tell her that it is all okay. Tell her I love her and nothing will change. But I can't lie to her. Not now, and not with this. I sigh mentally and wonder if I will remember this, or anything when I wake up again. But I throw this thought away. Of course I will. How could I forget Julie? My thoughts drift for a moment and I know I am about to go under. So I close my eyes, and savor this one last final breath before I delve into a new darkness.

Julie's POV  
My throat is raw from the ragged shouts and screams that have now dwindled into hoarse cries. My tears cloud my eyesight, but I am able to see him slowly close his eyes. I can't believe that this happened. But what happened, exactly? How did R get this monstrous wound? I don't know, but I can't stay where I am on the tile floor, soaking in his own blood.  
I slowly, with shaky, jerky movements stand up, and watch as the blood staining his shirt turns into what looks like a dark oily substance, and then the same happens with the blood on the floor, and even my hands. I quickly rub the gruesome liquid off my skin, and head for the rope in the closet.  
With hot tears running down my cheeks, and large sobs racking my whole frame, I carefully use my foot to roll R onto his back. I take his hands and tie them together so if he wakes up hungry he won't have any ideas. But I know he won't. He can't.  
I drag him to the other side of the room so I can wipe the grime off of the floor. When that repugnant task is done, I turn myself to face R and his unconscious body.  
What was it like for him, being dead? And for the second time, too. I hold hand, and once again tears escape. It strikes me instantly that he may not remember anything. That the only thing on his mind is to eat. He will know nothing else but hunger. Or was it possible he could remember things from his past death, like how when he was alive he would begin to remember his past life.  
Or perhaps he-  
My thoughts are interrupted when I see R beginning to shake and convulse, writhing on the floor in front of me. Death beginning to take over. I quickly back away into the corner, where he can't reach me. R continues writhing like his for a few moments before he stops, his whole body going limp. And then, with slow, shaky moments, he lifts himself up and hobbles to his feet.  
He turns his slightly tilted head towards me, and opens his eyes, and I gasp, trying not to cry.  
They are gray once again. And up until now I have not really grasped the idea that he was a zombie. But this is the icing on the cake that really convinces me. For the next few minutes I watch as his eyes contract and retract, trying to adjust to the light, and then they fix their gaze right on me, and I expect him to run over and try to bite my face off. But it is what he does next that throws me off guard.  
He looks down at his arms and sees his gray skin, and let's out an involuntary groan. Then, he looks up, letting his head fall back, and opens his mouth.  
"Crrrr...crap..."  
I almost smile at his unexpected reaction. At least he isn't completely gone.

°·*°·**Author note**·°*·°

Thanks for reading and please review! Criticism is wanted! Tell me how to make it better and if I should continue! Also- I have a drawing contest going right now. If you can draw the best Warm Bodies picture then pm me so I can give you my e-mail and you can send the picture to me. If you win you get your picture posted as the story image up at the top! ^-^ This lasts for one month- ends on March 1st. So get your drawing on! Happy super bowl!  
I do not own Warm Bodies, but God would I like to!


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sorry it took so long! I just got so lost for a while, and I am really sorry for that. Big thanks to 08, who helped me figure out what to do, and inspired me to keep going. So without further ado, here is chapter TWO! :D**

* * *

Julie POV:

I don't know what to think right now. My mind boggles just thinking of what happens next. What am I supposed to do? I mean, he's just standing there lop sided with a painful looking bloody shoulder. He's… swaying, and his hands are tied behind his back. I should be screaming. Running for help. Getting the hell away from him.

But I don't.

I wipe my tears away and decide to get help. I inch my way over to the phone. Maybe M could help me get out of this absurd mess of things. Keeping my eyes on R I take my time to dial the number. It shouldn't take too long for him to get here, he and Nora share an apartment right upstairs from ours. After the wall fell it seemed that the two really hit it off, so to keep our little team together we decided to stay close.

As the phone begins to ring I notice that R is beginning to thrash around. He's trying to get the ropes that bond his hands together undone. After a few moments he gives up and looks at me anxiously. Stifling a small chuckle, I manage to make my way over to R, his striking eyes staring at me in the oddest of ways. I slowly, and very steadily reach my hand out and cup his cheek. Of course, it take all of my will power not to slap him right then and there for getting into this mess, but he looks so… adorable?

I quickly shake my head to rid of this thought.

No. Your boyfriend is _not_ cute when he is dead.

But I have trouble coming to terms with that. I can't avoid meeting his alluring puppy dog eyes. The way he looks so distraught and pitiful and-

"Hello?" M says through the phone, breaking me out of my thoughts. I back away from R and tighten my grip on the phone. I think for a moment. What will I tell him? How should I tell him in a way that won't cause panic? I pace around the room, thinking.

"Hello…?" M repeats.

"Uh, Hey M." I stutter. "Do you think you could come down here for a minute…?" I listened intently as he sighed, obviously annoyed. I smile, when did zombies get so many emotions?

"You know… right now is not the best time… do I have to?"

"Yes. As quick as you can, too. Bring Nora." I hung up the phone so M had no choice but to come.

Smiling with content, I look back over at R, and approach him again. "R… can you understand me? Do you remember me?" He nods his head, and I release a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. "Say it."

"Julie… I can't… I-I can't-"

"You can't what, R? You can't speak? You just did!"

"My… hands." He says, shaking them for emphasis. Groaning, I untie the rope and throw the rope away towards the closet. R grimaces and rubs his wrists. Watching him closely I notice his eyes frequently glancing towards the blood on his shoulder. I hear the doorbell ring, so I get up and toss R a roll of paper towels, and head to the door. I smile to myself when I hear a muffled grunt from him, and realize that it hit his face.

I open the door and Nora comes barging in, along with M, who is glaring at me. They turn towards me, somewhat fuming, and I have to wonder what was happening when I called. Nora's eyebrows slant as she addresses me.

"Julie Grigio, what on Earth makes you so damn impatient?"

Ignoring her glare, I look back at R who seems a bit frightened to be seen by the angry Nora, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly. He slowly starts to back away, but before he gets fully out of view M follows my gaze, then Nora as well.

I notice Nora's reaction first. With her mouth agape like a fish, opening and closing it, she slowly walks towards R, almost in a crouch as she inspects him. She looks somewhere between surprised and frightened, but I can't tell. R squirms under her scrutinizing gaze. After a full minute of silence, she looks at me. "What the hell did you do?!"

I immediately throw my hands up defensively. "I don't know what happened! It wasn't me!" I finally glance at M, and double take when he is just drinking casually from a water bottle. When he is done, he notices my sideways stare. He shrugs and says, "Just put a blanket over him and throw him in the closet. He will be fine!"


End file.
